Midnight
by FreyjaBee
Summary: 'The sunrise is inevitable. Door's closed, need I say more? Cut out all the people talking. This is for me and you.' Rated M for mature themes, harsh language, sexual content. Submission for Miraxus love fest!


A/N: This is my submission for Miraxus Love Fest for the bonus day, Bells!

 _Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima_

 _ **Warnings:**_ Harsh language, sexual content.

 _ **Midnight**_

* * *

The stairs were steep and mostly rotted. Laxus climbed them with steady steps, the sound of the clock tower's chiming bells leading him along. He knew exactly where to place his feet. To fall through. To stay on top. There was a railing beneath his calloused hand, split and thronged by splinters. The walls around him were mouldering and covered in water spots. Between the stains were pictures, some family that had long since found their home in the dirt.

The whole house creaked with every step, lamenting its abandonment. It smelled like dust and spray paint, local kids sneaking in and scrawling things like J+G= LOVE on the soggy drywall. The sweetness was usually crossed out for some rude saying or another, or graphic drawings of varying skill. The most creative he'd seen was a detailed depiction of a spit roast, fun on some days, if you were a willing participant. Somehow he didn't think the ones portrayed on the wall of a mushy, decrepit house fit that bill. Not that he had too much to go on, just his gut.

Where love failed, lyrics picked up the mantle. 'We are the nobodies/Wanna be somebodies/When we're dead/They'll know just who we are,' and 'I'm as fucked up as they say/I can't fake the daytime/Found an entrance to escape into the dark/.' His personal favorite was, 'With the lights out/it's less dangerous.' It always reminded him of her, though it was only true half of the time. She did her best, most dangerous work in the dark. They all did, on the lam as they were after the king's nephew took the throne and outlawed both guilds and the use of magic. It was strange times in Fiore, the country now ruled by fear and men with weapons, looking for mage's that didn't play by the rules. To disobey was to give your freedom to a jail cell or to die.

The steps terminated in a wide landing. From there, to the left was a hallway cluttered with doorways. To the right was the sliding glass door that led to the flat roof. The glass had been smashed out long, long ago. When Laxus was young, he found the evidence of the vandalism, a puckered rock that was likely wielded by some adventurous teenager hoping to accomplish the same thing he was tonight. Someone had since thrown it to the street where it became lost in the alley below. It belonged now with the cigarette butts, broken beer bottles, condom wrappers and other city-life detritus.

Though the rooftop was smeared with the silvery light of the moon, it was snowing, big fat flakes that dropped from sparse clouds. It was like the gods couldn't quite agree, caught in a war between fall and winter. The leaves were fiery red, the days sunny and bright, but there was a bite to the air, and at night, Lady Autumn bowed her head to Father Winter.

Mirajane never did, though. Back to him, her head was tipped back, moonlight skating over her pearl-bright hair. Her cough-drop tongue was out to catch a wayward snowflake. Her eyes were closed. As quietly as possible, Laxus edged toward her, footsteps lost to the last tolls of the eleventh hour. The roof didn't creak for him like it did for others; he'd been coming here for years to escape. This place belonged to him.

He took her hand and dragged her in close. Mira's eyes opened. Tonight, they weren't glossy like they sometimes were, but as wide as medallions, catching and reflecting the moon's image. Her mouth curled into a smile, her body curved into his.

"I thought you weren't going to come."

In an impulsive show of rare affection, he touched her cheek. It wasn't what they usually did. Mira didn't pull away. Her skin was damp with snow, and cold. Laxus told her, "I just got held up."

Her eyes dropped to the strawberries in his hand. "By that?"

"Maybe." They were her favorite, not that he'd ever admit to knowing that.

Mira's laugh was a wind chime. "Is this what we do now? Sneak to the rooftop of a sagging building and eat strawberries like we're fancy while everything else falls apart?" She said it to throw him off balance. He only grinned wolfishly. It helped to hide his sheepishness. He wondered if Mira saw through the mask. She saw through most of his bullshit, after all.

"You want one or not?"

She held open her mouth, waiting patiently for him to deliver it. Her tongue looked slick, lips dry and painted a matte red so dark her skin was China-white in comparison. Laxus popped open the strawberry's plastic. It was loud, echoing off the degrading bricks. He chose a berry at random, too busy looking at her mouth to pay attention. They were all ripe, all sweet. He lifted it to her lips and his hand didn't shake. Her eyes flicked open to meet his just as the strawberry landed on her tongue. Her bright, straight teeth dug into the fruit, then her lips wrapped around it. She bit it off in the middle, half smiling. Laxus finished what she didn't, then pressed their mouths together while the strawberry juice still clung to their lips.

He kissed her until she couldn't help but touch him, her fingers brushing over his arms, working up to his shoulders.

Around them, the night was absolute. This part of Magnolia wasn't well-maintained anymore, the streetlamps black. In the distance, though, lights twinkled. There were shouts on the air, far away, and a sharp report. A gun. Neither flinched. It wasn't so uncommon these days.

Laxus took his mouth off hers so he could shuck off his long dark coat even though it was cold. He draped it over the roof. The strawberries went on one side, he went on the other, laying flat and locking his hands behind his head so he could look up at Mira. The moon caressed her, as ever. It too loved everything about her.

There was a time, when she didn't know herself, she used to bring a lot of guys up here; Laxus was the only one now, as far as he knew. He thought their only regret was that what had started as a late night tryst was now something else entirely that neither could possibly name or stop, though they wanted to. It was dangerous to care. In retaliation, nothing was as sweet as it could be. No one said 'I love you,' no one wanted to hold hands. In the daytime, no one pined, and if they daydreamed, well, it was their dream to keep.

Nighttime, though. Nighttime was for whispers and soft touches, for strawberries and kisses and moans. For shucking off their clothes and reservations and claiming a place to be themselves that barely anyone dared to go.

Nighttime was for escape from daytime pressures. An escape from a suppressive world.

Mira shook her hair over her shoulders so she could see him properly, the strands fine like spider silk. Her eyes glistened, her lashes dark. Her black-tipped fingernails fussed with the buttons of her long fur-trimmed coat. It came off an inch at a time. Beneath it she wore a white dress that was really too thin for the weather. The wind blew and her skin lifted in goosebumps. The dress came over her shoulders in a soft wave, then down over her full breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra; her skin was just startlingly bare. Laxus took her in, getting harder with each freckle revealed. Soon she stood only in her skin, unashamed and unworried that they'd be caught. She kicked off her shoes next and stepped on Laxus' coat to keep her toes warm. Though she never required it of him, she always liked to be completely nude when they did this. That way he could fully appreciate the beauty of her demons.

She straddled him then sank to her knees, coming for his mouth again. Her lips still tasted like strawberry, it was on her breath, on her skin, her tongue. Laxus opened for her and drank her down. She was the sweetest tasting thing he'd ever known, even if she was bitterly mean most times. That might have been why he liked her. She wasn't _like_ most other girls. She didn't line up, waiting for Laxus to give her a number and call when he was ready. She didn't swoon uncontrollably or gush whenever he came into the room. She didn't have sex with him and expect a fucking wedding right after. She was just happy to do what they did.

His fingers went into her hair. She was warm, but the night was trying to take that away. She never complained, though. She didn't grab for her coat to pull up over her body, she barely shivered, distracted by the strawberries she reached for. This time she fed one to Laxus, then kissed him until his mouth felt bruised, until his cock was hard and aching, until his hands were no longer satisfied to play through her hair. Down her back they trekked, to her rump where he squeezed and raised his hips into her. A moan slipped from her mouth into his. Even through his pants he could feel how ready she was and they'd barely even started. He used his hold on her to grind her body off his.

She broke the kiss and sat up so she could grab his shirt and work the buttons. When his chest was exposed, she ran her finger from his clavicle all the way down past his belly button, following the golden trail of hair that disappeared into the waistline of his pants. Laxus released her so she could do what she wanted. Her hips shimmied, her body rubbing over his all on its own, then she inched back so she could work on the button of his pants. They popped open. The zipper came down. Her cold, cold hands reached inside and tugged him out. The frosty air hit his erection, making it not wilt like Laxus expected, but stand even straighter, the excitement taking place of winter's coming bite.

Mira inched down further and kissed the place between his lower abdominal muscles. His skin bounced beneath her mouth. Her hot tongue snaked out and left a trail that cooled rapidly. Down she went, with each swirl coming closer and closer to his erection. Laxus lifted his hips, trying to make the moment happen sooner. Her fingers closed around his shaft, her tongue skirted around the base to the back where she licked a scalding line all the way from his testicles to the very tip of the head. Her mouth closed around him, her tongue tickled until he groaned just like she wanted, then she took him deep, forcing him to hit the back of her throat.

This was his favorite part. She was thorough with her ministrations, careful and attentive. She looked up from beneath her lashes. Her eyes weren't her own, belonging more to Seliah. The horns came next. She caught his eye and held it, using her magic to paralyze him. Laxus let it happen for as long as she needed it to, knowing that she'd release him when she was ready. She gathered her breasts together and used them to totally encompass his shaft, then sucked and pumped until Laxus breathed frantically and swelled on her tongue. She released her hold on him, allowing him to clutch at her hair and swear loudly. He came, pushed too far to hold it back. With the orgasm, his own magic came in a liberating wash, pricking Mira's skin to the point where she gasped in pain-tainted pleasure. He toned it back when he could manage.

Mira took her mouth off of him and swallowed. "More." The demand melted into his skin, not egged on by her magic but some other force that was equally as powerful. More voltage came to his fingers. He let his hands wander over her body, cupping her plump breasts and pinching the rose-coloured peaks. Her face tipped to the sky, the cry on her lips loud and dauntless. Her body convulsed over his, part magic, part joy. It went on for long seconds, pushed to the point where Laxus was afraid of hurting her. Though it felt good—like knowing himself again—he let the magic fade. Mira collapsed on him, hair a moon-brushed curtain that blocked out the seedy dregs of what Magnolia had become.

She climbed his body, mouth seeking his. The kiss was fevered and rushed. Her hips twitched, teasing his erection, knowing that coming had done nothing to curb his excitement, he was still ready to go, as he always was when it was her overtop of him.

Lifting herself, Mira grabbed Laxus and guided him to her opening. Then she slowly eased herself down, gasping with every inch her body took until he was totally buried. She pulsed around him, silken and warm, stationary while she got used to his thickness. Gradually, she started moving, rising up so he was at risk of coming out of her, then coming all the way down again. Laxus released her breasts and grabbed her hips hard, helping her rock. Her breath came out in short puffs laden with moans. The wind blew harder, grabbing her hair and twisting it like fingers around her neck.

Laxus tipped his hips. Mira rewarded him with a sharp cry and a shiver. Knowing she was close, he let his thumb slide between her slit. Her clitoris was a swollen nub. He touched it and she convulsed. Pressing harder, he swirled slowly. Mira rose and fell expertly, knowing just how to move to make them both feel good.

Her bucking became frantic, taking him deep, deep inside her body while she dug nails that weren't quite hers into his biceps. By the light of the moon, her cheeks were pink like snapdragons, and it wasn't just cold. With his free hand, Laxus cupped her cheek, encouraging her to be looking at him when she came. Her eyes slit open, heavy-lidded but focused. With their eyes locked, the orgasm took her by storm. Her mouth parted in a moan that made Laxus' head drain of everything but her body squeezing him tight. He buried himself inside of her, taking over when Mira fell out of rhythm. Holding her up inches from his hips, he slammed into her, getting lost in the sensation, in the sound, skin on skin, sobs, praises and curses. She screamed, coming again.

This time, Laxus finished, too.

In the minutes that passed, gasping and panting were the only sounds that filled the night.

The snow really started to fall, the clouds gathering close together to block out the moon. Mira tipped her face to the sky, letting her magic go so she looked less like a demon and more like a nymph, unbothered by the hundreds of cold kisses Father Winter bestowed upon her.

"Soon we'll be doing this on a bed of snow." Her voice was hoarse.

"Maybe next time we'll go to my apartment," Laxus said to the sky.

Mira dropped her face and looked at him. There was fear in her eye. He felt it, too. Fear of destroying a good thing by placing manacles and walls around it. What if this thing between them worked _because_ they snuck to the roof behind people's back? What if it was good _because_ neither voiced what they felt? What if the danger of letting their power out here in the open was the majority of what kept them coming back to each other?

"I never minded the snow."

Laxus brushed a flake from her cheek. "Me neither."

The clock tolled midnight. Mira kissed him deeply.


End file.
